


Sweaters

by Vehka



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Autumn, M/M, Nostalgia, Sweaters are cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:48:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2439023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vehka/pseuds/Vehka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are only gray and blue sweaters in Charles’s cupboard. The reason is this: other colors remind him of Erik.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweaters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dustyfluorescent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustyfluorescent/gifts).



There are only gray and blue sweaters in Charles’s cupboard. The reason is this: other colors remind him of Erik.

Black: determination. Red: the pain, the sand soaked with blood. White: how pale Erik was after it all. Yellow: the X. And so on.

Gray: the steel. Blue: the color of his eyes. Those too. But he had to choose, because the only way is forward - at least if you are not a time-traveling mutant by chance - and that was his choice. Gray and blue.

A mind is a curious thing and Charles knows that. Sweaters are boring and practical and there are billions of other things that remind him of Erik anyway. But because of that one chilly November morning and the fact that Charles forgot his jacket and because that particular sweater Erik borrowed was so itchy but felt warm and because they were in a rush and because Erik still noticed that Charles was cold and because of endless reasons because a mind is what it is and does what it does.

That particular sweater back then was black and the coffee they had that morning was bitter and they talked about Humphrey Bogart and neurons and the fact that Charles was practically an idiot because he left the house without a jacket in November.

There are plenty of moments he remembers and plenty of moments he doesn’t and sometimes he wishes he’d remember less and sometimes he wishes he’d remember more.

And sometimes the sky is the same shade it was that November morning and Charles thinks how those words slipped out of his tongue when he was supposed to say “thank you” but said “I love you” instead. And how the sweater was warm but the words were there, between them.

Sometimes it is windy and Charles is cold and the coldness reminds him of the moment Erik almost said something, almost answered. 

Sometimes he thinks about the slip and the days after it and tries to spot if something was different. He isn’t quite sure.

Erik never asked the sweater back.

And so there are two kinds of sweaters in Charles’s cupboard: blue and gray. And underneath them, neatly folded, a single black one which smells of that November morning and silence.


End file.
